


You Wish

by KittfoxHowlett



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, Naruto
Genre: Maybe fluff, i think, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 07:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittfoxHowlett/pseuds/KittfoxHowlett
Summary: Inuyasha in the world of Naruto’s Warring Clans, as a (un)willing ally of Senju, and I totally think his relationship with Touka would be similar to his relationship with Sango.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There is an idea for a whole story, but I have yet to find a way to connect all the random pieces in my head, thus to motivate myself I wrote one that was annoying me the most. Hopefully, the rest will follow.
> 
> Plus a few of my headcanons for sick!Tobirama.
> 
> No beta, English is my second language but I’m trying, and please enjoy ^^

Tobirama doesn’t get sick. It’s a fact.

He was born in the middle of the winter, much smaller and quieter than his older brother. Add to this his hair and pale complexion, and everybody was prepared to bury him after a week at most. Time passed though, proving Tobirama to be just as strong as Hashirama was.

He didn’t fall to the clutches of small flu epidemy that attacked the clan’s children when he was eight. When he was thirteen, he was sent with few men to the Land of Frost for a mission, and after returning he was the only one not bedridden with pneumonia. He shrugged being forced to swim in freezing water for almost an hour as if it was nothing.

Tobirama doesn’t get sick.

Until he does and he crashes hard.

“It’s like every sickness just clings to him instead of attacking.” Touka told Inuyasha, when they were peering into Tobirama’s room. “Till there’s a whole army of them and then they strike.”

Inuyasha hummed, looking at the sore, cold, wet cat buried under a mountain of blankets. Only the top of Tobirama’s hair was visible and every other second, they could hear his miserable sniffing. And occasional coughing fit.

He closed the door, getting rid of the small crack they used, and sat cross-legged at the edge of the corridor.

“I remember when it happened the first time.” Touka sat next to him. “People almost ended up giving Butsuma their condolences.” She snorted. “Oh, their faces when he got better.” She picked up a cup of tea Inuyasha brought her earlier. “I’m still not sure if Butsuma was happy that he lived or that he didn’t lose him to anything but war. Then the next year it happened again. And then two years later. And then again next year.” Shrugging, she took a sip. “In the end, they learned he’s too stubborn to die.”

“I’m more surprised Hashi’s not here,” Inuyasha stirred his own tea, “jumping around him and fretting at every whimper.”

“I do _not_ whimper.” Came a feeble protest from behind the door.

“And I’m a full blood summon.” Inuyasha said louder and cackled. “Remind me to ask Mito if she has some seal that saves sound. This is some top-quality blackmail here.”

“She does, won’t share.” Touka sighed, pouting. “I’ve asked.” She leaned back, glancing at the door. “He tried to when Butsuma was still alive.” She lowered her voice. “But Butsuma wouldn’t have it. ‘If you have time for that, use it for training’ he would say. When Hashirama took over, he tried again, but Tobirama would start stressing over the work of Clan’s Head not being done, since he does most of the boring part, and try to keep working. Well, turned out the best way for Hashirama to help is to sit down and do the deed.”

Inuyasha’s ears flattened against his head when Tobirama was attacked by yet another coughing fit. It sounded as if he was trying to spit out his lungs. Together with few more organs. It ended with a soft thud, followed by a muffled groan.

It was then that the healer came for a check, and asked them politely to leave, as they were disturbing the patient. Tobirama’s sensing sometimes turned hypersensitive when he was sick.

“Come on puppy.” Touka jumped to her feet, grinning at him when he growled at the name. “Spar. It won’t take long for Uchiha to figure out Tobirama is out of commission for whatever reason. Maybe they will risk attacking now.” Her grin turned even more feral. “I’ve been itching to try some moves on Izuna.” It was her turn to growl, when Inuyasha only raised one eyebrow, looking at her incredulously. “You’re banned from spending time with Mito without a chaperone. Now, move your ass so I can kick it.”

“Kick it?” He finally stood up. “Remind me, what’s the current score? Forty-seven to nine?” Which only earned him a shove and a hissed _forty-six, you bastard_.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Touka glancing at the door, just before they rounded the corner. It was obvious from the start, that her reassuring him that Tobirama’s illness, in all its appearance, wasn’t deadly, was more for her than Inuyasha. Not that he would tease her about that. Ever.

He liked his head where it was, thank you very much.

 

 

He was hardly sneaky, having to be in the room since the doors were to be closed at all times, but Inuyasha could always claim to just want to watch Tobirama being all miserable. Even if he knew no one would believe him. They all seemed to be convinced that he was a Good Guy at Heart.

He had to admit, though. If Tobirama had just a simple case of cold, which would just make him sore, grumpier and snarkier than normally, Inuyasha would enjoy bothering him. But watching him shiver on his futon, soaked in sweat, his skin paler than ever and resembling wax more than skin, and barely able to focus on anything? He wasn’t nearly cruel enough to enjoy that.

Mito had dragged him in with her, giving him an excuse to walk in in the first place. She insisted on bringing Tobirama food and making sure he eat it, and she had him help Tobirama sit straight long enough. Now she was sitting next to him, her hand gliding through his wet hair, humming softly.

Finally, Inuyasha grabbed the miraculously empty dishes and slipped out of the room. He saw Hashirama, walking through the corridor with scrolls stacked in his arms, slow down and look longingly at the door.

Inuyasha sighed, marching toward kitchen on remote and nodding absentmindedly toward those few people who greeted him. It’s been almost a week since Tobirama all but collapsed, and, according to Touka, he should be already getting better. Yet, the fever hasn’t broken even once, and even if no one said it out loud, everyone was getting worried.

 

 

It took him a bit too long for his tastes to realize, he was listening to Uchiha patrols chatter a bit further to the west than normally. At first, he turned around to go to his usual spot, where they tended to be chattier, but stopped, hit his head against the closest tree and grumbled several curses. Then, he continued moving west.

With a bit of luck, he will be back in four days and by that time, the trip will turn out to be a waste.

“Just when the fuck did I get this soft?”

 

 

The tension was so thick in the Senju compound, one could cut it with a rusty kunai. If by then the Uchiha didn’t notice something was wrong, now they just had to. Despite the late hour, there were soft whispers filling the corridors, and shinobi on the training grounds, either training or releasing pent-up stress.

Inuyasha landed silently on the roof of one of the armories and watched them move for a moment. Three weeks after their last confrontation, the Uchiha should have recovered a bigger part of their loss while Senju were still down one of their strongest member. An attack could happen at any moment.

Rubbing his nose, Inuyasha jumped across the roofs of the compound. The kitchen was thankfully empty. The content in his bag squelched when he tossed it onto the closest table and started working on bringing the fire in the stove back to life.

Once it was blazing, he got the bag back and emptied in onto the table, scrunching his nose at the smell. Sometimes he wondered, how his mother could know the recipe, since preparing it was simply messy.

“Then again,” he muttered, rolling up his sleeves and tossing snake livers into a pot, “mom was hardly your ordinary lady.”

 

Half an hour later, he crept trough the still should-be-sleeping-but-really-isn’t compound, carrying a cup with medicine and trying to keep his breathing shallow not to inhale too much of the smell.

Tobirama’s room was empty of any visitors, probably courtesy of the healer again, for which Inuyasha was glad. Setting the cup on the side, he nudged Tobirama.

“Wat.” Came a grumbled greeting, as Tobirama’s eyes barely opened.

“Up with you.” Said Inuyasha, grabbed Tobirama’s shoulders and slowly pushed him up. “No amount of beauty sleep will help you, so give up already.”

“Mutt.” Tobirama would probably sound threatening if he wasn’t slumped against Inuyasha’s arm, clearly unable to keep up by himself. His face scrunched when Inuyasha lifted the cup. “Stinks.”

“No, really?” Inuyasha let sarcasm drip from his voice. “I couldn’t tell. Drink.” He dangled the cup in front of Tobirama’s face.

“What’s this?” Who eyed it doubtfully, swaying.

“Medicine.” At Tobirama’s disbelieving look, Inuyasha huffed. “Can it, everyone knows the worse the smell the better it works.”

“The worse the taste.” Corrected him Tobirama, blinking to get his eyes to focus.

“And the worse the smell, the worse the taste. Circle closed. Now drink before you pass out again.”

Tobirama sent him an angry glare, that didn’t hold even quarter of normal heat but tried to snatch the cup from Inuyasha’s hand. Who let him grab it, but still kept a fairly firm grip on it, allowing him more to guide it through the air than actually hold. Despite the fever, his fingertips were chilly.

The first mouthful, predictably, caused Tobirama to yank the cup away and barely stop himself from spitting it out.

“What is this?” He demanded.

“You don’t want to know most, and then some herbs from near the Iwa. Drink or I will make you drink, and it won’t be pleasant for either of us.”

The glaring contest that ensued after this, was cut short when a wave of tremors shook Tobirama’s body and he groaned in defeat, leaning even more on Inuyasha. Exhaling loudly, he guided the cup close and drank its content as fast as he could without choking.

He almost doubled in half at the coughing fit that started right after and Inuyasha could almost hear his stomach protesting, so he quickly filled the cup with a fresh water from the jug nearby and forced Tobirama to drink that too.

Breathing heavily, Tobirama grunted and moved to lie down. Inuyasha shifted, loosening his grip on his shoulders, but stopped when he saw the contemplating look in Tobirama’s eyes.

It was plain unfair, that despite having worse balance and eye-hand coordination than a four years old on a sugar high, and barely able to sit by himself, Tobirama still managed to toss the blankets up, grab Inuyasha’s legs and yank him down. Inuyasha yipped when his head hit the floor right next to the pillow and then there was something heavy pushing at him, moving his clothes and…

“FUCK, Senju, you’re lying under 10 blankets, by what miracle are your feet _cold_?!”

Inuyasha grabbed the back of Tobirama’s yukata, trying to drag him away and kicked his legs in successful but very short-living attempt to dislodge Tobirama’s feet from the back of his calves.

There was an annoyed grumble and Tobirama pressed himself harder against Inuyasha, sneaking his _ice fucking cold why didn’t I feel it earlier_ hands under his shirt and pressing them against his back, causing Inuyasha to jerk in surprise.

“Senju.” Hissed Inuyasha, arching his back away from those cold fingertips digging into his body just under his shoulder blades.

There was another incoherent grumble, followed by something that sounded like ‘warh’, _more_ squeezing and Inuyasha gave up.

Shuffling awkwardly, he folded one arm under his head and, after a moment of hesitation and trying to find a more comfortable position, laid his other across Tobirama’s side.

“You owe me for this.” The growled, huffing as Tobirama’s hair tickled his nose. He shivered, when his limbs moved a bit to the sides, looking for warmer bits of skin. “You owe me _so big_ for this.”

 

 

 Inuyasha’s ear twitched when he heard the familiar steps, the door slide open and then, after a moment of shocked silence, there was a snort.

“One word, Touka,” he warned, his voice still annoying scratchy from sleep, ”and I will rip your spine out and shove it so far up your ass you’ll be spitting vertebrae.”

“You wish.”


End file.
